


Be With Me

by icandrawamoth



Series: Kinktober 2018 [13]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Bad Sex, Cock Warming, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Relationship Problems, Rimming, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 02:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16379870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: After the group loses Wes, Tycho struggles to reconnect with Wedge.





	Be With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [He's in a Better Place Now](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16297928) by [icandrawamoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth). 



> For Kinktober day thirteen prompt "distant/distracted sex." This is a follow-up to He's in a Better Place Now; you'll probably want to read that first.

It's been three days since they lost Wes. Wedge still isn't talking any more than he absolutely has to, and he won't even look at Hobbie. He's distracted, fixating, and though Tycho understands after what Wedge was forced to do, it's still awful. It feels like their group in danger of falling apart, like Wedge is pulling away from them. Even from him.

Tycho is trying not to be selfish. There are things in this new world that are important: food, ammunition, safe places to sleep. And there are things that aren't: feelings, romance, intimacy. He _knows_ this, but he misses them just the same.

Again, Hobbie offers quietly to take the first watch of the night. Tycho thinks he's having trouble sleeping, and he can't blame him after what happened, but avoiding it isn't helping either. If he doesn't get enough rest...well, Tycho suspects that's what got Wes in the end.

Dack offers to stay up with him, the rest leave them at the door to go inside. They've temporarily set up camp in a small building of one-room apartments, and it gives them all privacy when they part for the night, which Tycho likes.

It means he's not shy when he and Wedge step into the one they've chosen. He tugs his boyfriend into his arms and kisses him lightly, tries not to sound too desperate when he murmurs, “Wedge. Make love to me tonight. Please.”

Wedge lets out a sort of shaky gasp, hands tightening on Tycho's arms. “I'm surprised you still want me, after...”

Tycho kisses him again. “That doesn't change _anything_. I love you. I miss this.”

Wedge's face twists, his eyes skittering away as he says guiltily, “I've been neglecting you.”

“No.” Tycho turns his face back, brushes their lips together. “There are far more important things. I know you're hurting and you haven't exactly been in the mood.”

“But you are.” Wedge looks at him, his dark eyes saying so much his mouth never will. Pain and fear and exahustion and the urgent desire to make right what he actually can. “Of course, Tycho.” His hands move, assume a more tender embrace. “Of course I will. I'm sorry.”

Tycho shakes his head a little at the words, but then Wedge's lips are on his again as he eases him onto the bed. Tycho lets himself fall back as Wedge crawls over him, and this – this feels familiar and good. A tiny bright spot in hell.

Wedge presses Tycho's wrists to the bed, a silent gesture telling him to stay still, then begins to undress him. Tycho lets his eyes fall closed as his shirt is pulled away, lips trailing lightly across bared flesh. Then his parts and underwear are gone too, and he shivers a little in the cool air.

When he opens his eyes again, Wedge is kneeling between his spread legs looking down at him, but from the expression on his face, Tycho doesn't think he's actually seeing him.

“Wedge?” he asks.

Wedge snaps out of his momentary daze, dropping his gaze penitently. “I'm sorry,” he says again, soft. “I was thinking...”

Tycho reaches for him, and Wedge leans in just enough to let fingertips brush his cheek. “It's all right. Just be here with me, okay?”

Wedge closes his eyes for a moment, nodding as he takes a deep breath. “We don't have any lube,” he murmurs.

Of course they don't. There was a bottle, early on, but it had disappeared at some point. Supplies for sex aren't exactly high on their list of scavenging priorities.

“We'll make due,” Tycho assures him. “It's all right.”

Wordlessly, Wedge ducks between his legs. One hand strokes Tycho's cock slowly as he applies his mouth to his entrace, coaxing him open.

Tycho's head tilts back against the bed, breathy sounds slipping from between his lips at the sensations. “Yeah,” he murmurs, encouraging. “'s good, Wedge.” His slides a hand into Wedge's hair, gripping lightly, not guiding, but grounding both of them.

Wedge laps at him at few times, then eases his tongue inside, and Tycho arches against him, wanting more. He doesn't draw it out, though; one finger, two, and all too soon, he's pulling away, kneeling up between Tycho's legs again, spitting into his hand and taking hold of his own cock. He's only half hard Tycho notices, and he opens his mouth to say something when Wedge grits out, “It's fine. I'm–” He lets out a harsh breath as he tightens his grip.

It takes a few minutes, but then he's positioning himself at Tycho's entrance, leaning over him again. He meets Tycho's gaze, and when Tycho nods, presses in.

It burns, the stretch and makeshift lube not enough, and Tycho grunts as Wedge mumbles an apology. He keeps his movements slow and steady, and it gets easier, Tycho's body acclimating as he breathes through it. Finally, little sparks of pleasure start to fade in.

Wedge's face is taught, though, as if the simple, even movements are taking every bit of his concentration. There's not even a hint that this is actually doing anything for him.

“Wedge...” Tycho ventures, and his partner falters.

“What is it?” Wedge asks too quickly. “Faster? Slower? Am I hurting you?”

“No, none of that.” Tycho frowns at him, reaching up to touch his face, the crease of concentration between his brows. “This is supposed to be for both of us.”

Wedge turns away and starts moving again, thrusts a little harder, a little deeper, like he can distract Tycho from his worry. “Just tell me what you need.”

“Wedge, stop.” He does, immediately, freezing in place. “It's okay,” Tycho goes on quietly. “We don't have to.”

“But–”

“Not like this,” Tycho says, trying to be gentle. “Not if it's a chore. Not if it doesn't feel good for you, too.”

“I'm sorry,” Wedge says shakily and goes to pull out, but Tycho stops him with a hand at the small of his back.

“Stay,” he says, and it comes out far more plaintive than he'd intended. “Please. Just stay.”

“Okay,” Wedge says, and his voice cracks just a little as he relaxes again. He lays his head on Tycho's chest, and Tycho just holds him. He can already feel him starting to go soft inside him, but that's okay. It feels so good just to be close, skin and warmth and touch silently reassuring them they're still alive and together.

Tycho runs his hands down Wedge's back, feels the way it makes him shiver. “Will you talk to me?” he asks quietly. “I know you're not all here.”

It feels like a long time before Wedge answers, but when he does, it's the words Tycho expected. “I can't stop thinking about Wes,” he confesses. “And Hobbie.” He swallows thicky. “I know, I know, all the stuff you said before, but...they'll never have anything like this again. And it's not like Hobbie will find someone else with the world like it is. Not that he would anyway.

And I keep thinking...it could have been you, Tycho.” Wedge pushes himself up suddenly, eyes piercing as he looks down at him. “It could have been you I had to look in the eye and–and _kill_ so something worse wouldn't happen. It could've been me having to go on without you. I can't–” A harsh, broken sound escapes from his lips, and Tycho tugs him back down into his arms.

“Shh, that didn't happen. Don't focus on it.” Wedge trembles against him, and Tycho holds him close, wishing he could take those thoughts from his head. Wishing he could fix an entire world that's broken. Wishing he didn't have those same terrifying thoughts about Wedge.

“It's going to happen again,” Wedge whispers. “I know it. We can't all be lucky forever. And eventually...what? We all die? Is what we're doing now even living?”

Tycho feels tears dripping onto his skin and tries to pull Wedge impossibly closer. “We keep heading for the border,” he tells him, “Like we've been doing all along. Like we've heard, it might be clear there.”

“ _Might_ be,” Wedge emphasizes. “Probably not. The undead will have covered the entire globe by now. We saw the news reports before things got really bad – they were already on every continent.”

“We can't think like that.”

Wedge tilts his head to look at him. “How are you like this?” he asks like he genuinely doesn't understand. “How are you so confident? How are you not...” _Like me_ , Tycho hears in his silence.

“Someone has to keep it together,” Tycho answers gently. “If everyone in our group falls apart, we'll really have nothing left.”

“And I'm not strong enough to be that person.”

“Don't. I know it won't help to argue the point, but you did what you had to, Wedge. With Wes. I...I don't know that I could have. And you took care of the rest of us before that. You still are.” When Wedge stays silent, he goes on, still gentle. “And you remember those first days after it started, when I lost it because I couldn't get ahold of my family? You were there for me then. And–and when I did find out what happened to them, you were still there. You're still here.”

“I'm still here,” Wedge agrees softly. He shifts, rolling to the side, finally pulling out of Tycho, but guiding him into his arms, pressing his face against his hair. “I know we're all hurting. I want to be here for you, too.”

“I love you,” Tycho tells him. He tilts his head, kisses him as tenderly as he can. “And I know you love me, too. We're together. So many of our friends are still here. I do believe we have to keep moving, to keep trying to stay alive. If we give up, if we have nothing to try for, we're finished.” He takes a shaky breath. “That doesn't mean I'm not just as tired and afraid as you are.”

“I'm sorry I didn't see it.”

“It's all right. I can't imagine how you feel right now, but it's going to be okay. Whatever I can do, I'm here. We're all here. Even Hobbie, you understand that?” Wedge goes rigid against him. “Yes, Wedge, even Hobbie. He understands, you know. He's grieving, he's angry, but not at you. Never at you.”

“How–”

“Because he knows, just like me, just like you if you let yourself believe it, that you're not the one who killed Wes. He was dead either way, and you just did what you had to. And if you really believe Hobbie isn't relieved it didn't have to him pulling that trigger, you're wrong. He may feel it was his responsibility, he may be angry you took it from him, but that doesn't mean he _wanted_ to. Hell, he probably feels guilty it's you dealing with that part of the fallout and not him.”

Wedge catches his breath with a quiet “ _oh_.”

“Yeah,” Tycho agrees gently. “If it was him, he'd be feeling exactly like you are right now. As it is, he lost the man he loves, and he has to feel like he's lost you, too, the way you've been avoiding him.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“Yes. Fix things with him. That can be something for you to work for, that goal I mentioned.” Tycho gives him a little smile. “After that, we'll find something else. And when we've done that, something else.”

Wedge lets out a long shaky breath, but now there's something steady, resolved about his face. “I understand. God, I love you so much. I'm going to fix things with you, too, I promise.”

“I believe you. For now, get some rest. I'm happy just to have you hold me while you do.”


End file.
